Ambiance
by Chloe6
Summary: COMPLETE Plz read & review!
1. Chapter 1

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Ambiance   
  
He looked through the window, taking in the dark grey that was ruling the sky. The gods were painting a bleak image tonight and it seemed all too reminiscent of his past month. The rain poured from the invisible clouds of above, hitting the large window palings. They snaked down in individual droplets, pursuing each other, no too drops taking the same course yet all meeting the same ironic fate. All a bit like life. The bright lights of the opposing skyscrapers were only hazy glows; the silver lining of a cloudy city seemed barely there. Its presence though, was undeniable, just hidden in the elements.   
  
But there was something very comforting about rain. A sound that he could sleep to, a comfort through its consistency. He had seen it all before and is well aware of his growing dependency on the routine of life. He is a cop, and he likes it, it challenges him where others have failed. It is considered admirable and rewarding, and for him this provides a sense of security. It had been ten years since this had all began and he needed to leave it behind. Not perpetually, not even for a great length of time, he just needed to escape for a while. Escape the murders, rapists and pedophiles. It had been a month since his father had died, and he had just let it go. Let it flow past so it wouldn't interfere, and now he wished he hadn't.  
  
"Goren?" Her voice broke him from his contemplative trance, he was grateful for the escape. Just to hear it was a reassurance in itself. He snapped his head from the daze of the window to her face, a meager attempt to conceal his distraction.  
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Does your paperwork grow by on its own accord, or do you feed it?"  
  
"I'm pretty sure it's the former." He said, not looking up.  
  
She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the grin.   
  
Yawning, he gazed down at his watch. "Shit, its quarter past ten. You don't need to stick around for me, Eames."  
  
"Oh, I don't mind. It's time we got this done, anyway."   
  
'time we got this done.' Yet again his mind was engulfed with a trail thoughts, each subsequently delaying the inevitability of his work. 'we'. He glanced at Alex, immersing her head in his work. 'we'. Every piling page was evidence of his growing impatience with the technicalities, his constant delaying of work's inescapable. Watching her riddled him with guilt, she shouldn't be doing this, what pathetic excuse of a partner was he becoming. She precariously grasped another few documents from the tower living on his desk. In only few days the once minuet mound had become an unconquerable Everest. Alex hated paperwork; he could see her face screw up in loath at the blankness of a fresh form. But she didn't complain, not even at her partner's blatantly lacklustre effort.   
  
"Eames, I mean it, you don't need to ruin your night."  
  
"Goren, I mean it, its no biggy." Smiling politely, as she mimicked him.   
  
He smiled his gratitude, and turned his gaze back to the once deserted paper, sighing in defeat. At least she was here.  
  
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It was well past 12 before they had finished the larger of the paperwork. Eames knew she had covered the greater of it work but she wasn't bitter at all. His mind was elsewhere; it had been for the last month.  
  
"Goren, lets go. There's only a bit left and I will clear that up on Monday."  
  
"You shouldn't have to do that."  
  
"Really, what does it matter?"  
  
He resultantly surrendered with a shrug. "Ok, if it doesn't worry you."  
  
"Please let me give you a lift home then." He asked, wanting to make good his languor.  
  
"Alright then." She replied, as he slid on her coat. Bobby trailed her down the stairs, switching off lights as he left. She walked slowly, as if she wanted him to meet her side. The grey concrete of the steps disappeared, one after the other, eventually giving way to the plateau of pavement. The wall of crisp air hit Bobby as he caught her up outside. The drops of rain shot down from the sky, forming creeks, rivers and oceans in the pavement. He looked at Alex, standing under the cover of the building overhang, her little nose already crimson from the cold.   
  
"Wet out." She spoke with a grin. And looked at her beige suede boots with despondence, and the ocean that was swarming around them.   
  
"Ya think." He retorted, sliding a hand from the shelter of the building and studying the elements. He watched the water trickle in streams to the pool growing in his palm. He shook the droplets free and turned his glance back to Eames, hugging herself in the bitter cold.   
  
"I'll go get the car, and met you back here?" He suggested.  
  
"No way, I'm not standing here alone." She protested, surveying the surroundings.  
  
"I guess." Goren said, pulling off his jacket.  
  
"What now, Sherlock?" She asked grinning.  
  
"I'm being a gentleman." Lifting the jacket over her head, forming a tent.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Now," he spoke, his voice a comic authority "We run for it."  
  
  
  
Alex nodded. "Go!" she laughed, catching him unawares as she shot off. She was in stitches as they dodged puddles in vain, Bobby struggling to keep her under cover and on her feet at the same time. By the time they reached the car, they were both drowned and exhausted but neverless beaming.  
  
"Your wet." Bobby said with seemingly rare grin.  
  
"And your not?" Alex replied.  
  
"Just a little" he said with a smirk, opening the car door for her as he continued to shelter her from the elements.  
  
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Bobby pulled up at her apartment. And smiled a goodbye to her.   
  
"You don't want to come up for a bit. Goodbye coffee?" She offered  
  
"Eames, I'm going for a week. Its hardly infinite."  
  
"And I'm going to get so much work done without you."   
  
They exchanged grins, until he finally submit and took off his seatbelt. It was now well past one but he hadn't felt so awake in a long time. He followed her up the steps, and into her apartment. Pulling off his sopping shoes and socks.  
  
The hallway trailed into a series of rooms, all of deep warm colours. Earthen reds and vermilions, lit up with lights reflection on the white ceilings and floorboards. "Its very nice, Alex."   
  
"Thanks." She replied.  
  
She led him into the kitchen, and started the coffee. "So where are you disappearing off to for a week?"  
  
"Just to see some old army mates." He replied, gazing around the rooms.   
  
The silence hung stagnant for a while.  
  
"I just want to think about something else for a while." He finished.  
  
She nodded. Handing him a mug and wiping a raindrop from his nose with her soft hands. "I think I'll manage a week." She said with a grin.  
  
Bobby couldn't help but smile, but it still seemed uneasy.  
  
"Are you alright?" She asked, reading his eyes like a diary.  
  
"Yeah. I'm getting better." He replied, shifting his gaze around the room. Alex leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips, electric yet subtle, her hand gently surrounding his upper neck.  
  
"I'm glad." She whispered. Her eyes shone, every word spoken more and more natural. She seemed surreal.   
  
He leaned down to her, gently returning it. Brushing her lips so softly they tickled. Engulfing her into a hug, he murmured. "Me too."   
  
"Your wet." She whispered into his ear.  
  
"I'm sorry." He apologised.  
  
  
  
"I don't mind."   
  
"It's better I'm going, anyway." He said, breaking away.  
  
"Not yet?" Her brilliant eyes appealed to him.  
  
"Not yet." He agreed, smiling intently as she took his hands, enclosing them in her own.  
  
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He lay in bed, Alex wrapped in his arms, and her head nestled on his chest. A smile lighting on her face even as she slept, and it could have been the most satisfying thing he had ever seen. He freed one arm and covered her ivory shoulders with the lilac sheets. He stroked Alex's light brown hair, as she rose and fell with his breathing. And all he could hear was the rain, the smooth consistent sound of comfort.  
  
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Disclamer: i don't own em, blah blah blah. And ya don't wanna sue me, as Nicole would put it, I ain't got a pot 2 piss in!  
  
Hmmmm, hope that wasn't too disastrously terrible. I'm not a G/E shipper, but anywho, I just hope it aint toooo fluffy. Plz review, even if u hated it, constructive criticism is fantastic so pick away. I don't know bout a chap 2, maybe it could happen. :S ideas & help appreciated!!! Tonnes of thanx 2 Black Storm, Kate & Kahlia! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own em. Kaput!  
  
Authors Notes: Yea, chapter 2 did happen. Unfortunately, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and my physics assignment didn't happen (but it will). Thanx to Kahlia 4 all her plentyfull help. I took an guess on the mile thing, its about 1.6km, I hope. Ah that's bout it. Thanks sooooo much 4 the reviews. You are all legends! I just wanna 2 apologise for spelling, grammatical errors and inaccuracies.  
  
PLZ R& R!  
  
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His eyes straightened, awakened by the gentle tapping of a thousand simultaneous drops on the window. His eyes traced their patterns down the glass. Outside was still indistinguishable, clouded by sheets of water pouring from the sky, the occasional iridescent fork of electricity followed with a booming crackle. The room lit, shadows emerging from nowhere. He began to count, '1, 2.' and ceased with the expectant boom. Quarter mile away. He remembered what his dad told him when he was 5. "That's just the men in the clouds fighting, Bob. They shoot bolts of hot light at each other. That noise, that's them yelling at each other." He smiled at the story, 'The reckoning of the gods.' It was 2 years later when he discovered that it was static electricity all along. He stretched, removing his gaze from the dark exterior to the ivory ceiling. Then reality hit, he was lying next to her and what had occurred was no longer hidden by the comfort of sleep. She was still very much asleep, but that would not last infinitely, hell, that wouldn't last another twenty minutes. And then reality would set in.bluntly, plainly, obviously.. nothing could stop it. Surreal; that was the concept that had defined last night, a dreamy state of indulgence. But what now? Should he go now? He had, maybe fifteen minutes. Would his disappearance hurt her more than waking up next to him? Should he run, and leave her the week to contemplate the consequences, or would this compound everything? His fear of hurting her was compelling him stay, maybe a little longer. He gazed at her, burying her head into the pillow, hands desperately grasping the last of the sheets over her shoulder. Radiant still, with mussed hair and mascara that lay smudged below her eyes. He lay his head back onto the pillow, lost in its complexities. Focusing on the shadows formed in the crevasses of ceiling joinings. Why the impurities? White was never just white, white was every colour in the spectrum. The reds of anger, blues of depression, yellows of love and greens of envy; all this produced white. It was the colour that resembled the paragon of humility. He could see she was restless, and the 15 minutes had evaporated before him.  
  
Her eyelids fluttered as she woke, then opened when she caught his image in the corner of her eye. "Morning." She spoke, the awkwardness was obvious. And Bobby knew it then, he should have run. If only so that he didn't need to see her stumble for words in his presence. Then she contradicted it, stitting up and oh so easily placing her hand around his, "I'm glad you stayed."  
  
He smiled vaguely, rising from his back to meet her eye level. "I'm going to have to go, Alex."  
  
"Right now?" She asked, a little perturbed.  
  
He shook his head, "nah." He said, eyes deepening into his palms as he paused. He raised his head, taking in the crimson walls, wine curtains and sallow ceiling. "20 minutes." He finished, meeting her eyes again. Her face seemed ivory in emotion, a thousand feelings drowning each other into equilibrium.  
  
She encircled her hand in his, appealing her eyes to him. "What do we do about this?"  
  
Bobby took a deep breath in contemplation. "Alex." His voice held back in haste.  
  
"Well, it won't disappear Bobby."  
  
"I know that." His tone changed in frustration, he tried not to hurt her. "Can we hold this off a while? Just till I get back." Dropping her slight hand from his grasp and getting out of bed, providing symbolic finality to his words. He began to hunt down each article of clothing.  
  
"A week?" She retorted.  
  
"A week."  
  
"Do you want me to sit on the shelf for you while you're away?" The condescension hung in her voice.  
  
"Alex. Don't. " He pleaded, turning to face her. She took a deep breath and looked out the window to the obscure sky. Wrapping her arms around her bent legs. She wanted him to know everything and temptation to blurt it out was intensifying. It was a pressure pushing on her heart and chocking in her throat. It was swelling in her eyes and throbbing in her head. And while it endeavored to engulf her, her fear and pride struggled to fight it back. She turned back to him, buttoning his shirt.  
  
"We have time Alex." He tried to make good, but she didn't acknowledge it, her eyes avoiding his. He walked over to her, sitting beside her petite frame. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he cocked his head, searching for her eye line. "I'm sorry. but." He paused, taking in every emotion in her chocolate eyes. "It's just that, well. We need to get this right the first time, or everything might collapse."  
  
"Alright then."  
  
He pulled her into his chest and kissed her head. He was still warm, kind and gentle  
  
"I have to go."  
  
Alex nodded. He rose from the bed and walked from the room.  
  
"I will call you as soon as I get there."  
  
"Yep." She replied despondently, her hand supporting her neck. Trying to relieve the pressure, and hold herself strong. She was convincing.  
  
He stopped at the doorway, turning back. "You will be alright, Alex?"  
  
"Sure." She tried to sound convincing, he saw straight through it.  
  
"Alex."  
  
"Go Bobby."  
  
He paused, bringing his hand to his chin. Surrendering he turned around and walked out.  
  
She could still feel his presence long after he left the room. She lay back on the bed, the lilac pillows laced with the comfort of his sent. And she lay there, 'what had happened?' Tears began to swell. She never cried, and she wasn't going to this time. She clenched her hands around a pillow and willed the tears away. Her hands ached and her eyes burnt, but her stubbornness, her father's stubbornness, was going to win out. She convinced herself, she wasn't going to cry, not over this.  
  
And he walked from the building onto the pavement, dodging drops as he ran for the car. Then he stopped and turned around. The bitter cold of rain cleared his head. What had he just done?  
  
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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Mr.Wolf & co. Me owns the plot, well if u could call it that.

Authors Note: this chapter had been, ummm, for lack of a better word - dodgy. I had good intentions but they dissipated. Oh well! ;) I hope it's enjoyed anyway. Ta's to Brandy and Black Storm for the help. And to all those that reviewed; your all wonderful. 

PLZ R & R

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"SHIT!" he hollered. 'Where is it?' Panic struck his mind as he paced anxiously up and down the dark paved ground. He leaned his head back in pain, catching the full brunt of the rain. So frustrated yet detached from reality, he conceded that it was gone. Maybe infinitely. He stood in the middle of the road, looking with despair at the vacant space. The one time he desired to emancipate himself from this world and yet another distortion of fate held him back. It was suffocating him, breaking his will and conforming him into a monotonous lifestyle. The reflections of street lamps created gold dapples on the sheets of water that laden the ground. The hazy gold of approaching headlights forced him to flee to the footpath. He brought his hand up to his head rubbing it in annoyance. He kicked a puddle, scattering a million drops into the air, and watched them fall back to the ground, swallowed up and carried away. Now drenched to the bone in the bitter cold, he ran back to Alex's apartment. 

'Tap tap', the doors touch burnt his cold hands. There was no response.  "Alex?" he yelled through the door.

"Just a minute." Came the muffled reply from the other side of the brown oak.

"Alex, I'm freezing solid here." Bobby replied impatiently, shaking, as droplets trickled down his shoulders, forehead and hands. 

She opened the door, dressed in a fluffy white robe and slippers; she clutched her arms around herself as if she felt naked. Her reddened eyes took him aback. She had been crying. The woman he loved the most in the world and he had reduced her to tears. 

"Bobby." She finally said. "What the hell do you think your doing?" She spoke with anxiety, biting her lips as she did so. Trying desperately to hold back the tears swelling in her eyes. Trying to hide the lump forming in her throat, stilting her breath.  Trying to hide from his eyes, the chocolate eyes that could see straight through any disguise, any carefully executed mannerism or cover-up. The eyes that could strip down all the bullshit in an instant, and recognise the real her. And right now all she wanted was for him to be blind, just so he wouldn't see her hurting, see her vulnerability. Hell, she had seniority.

"My cars gone." He explained, avoiding provocation. He watched her intently, shaken on the inside, acting on the out.  It scared him to see her vulnerability exposed, she was always so strong and stable.  She held him together; she kept him on the favorable side of the line between genius and madness. If she wasn't there to suspend his fall, then no one else could. And then he might ……slide.

"Gone?" 

He nodded, motioning with his hands to go inside, swallowing possible words as he did so. She stepped aside, watching him trail down her hallway.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Alex. Certain. Its not where I parked it, it's not in the street and I seriously doubt its…" He stopped himself, conscious that the bitter tone of his voice was causing further detriment. 

She raised her hand in defense, "Coffee?" 

He half smiled his thanks as he walked into her lounge, dialing his phone. "….yes, it's a 1965  GTO, black……yes……Saldon Street……… No, I don't live there…… Not sure.." He shifted his gaze up to her eyes.  "I was preoccupied…."  She met his eyes until she felt her cheeks beginning to burn from the unease. Alex picked up the dishes standing to command on the wooden drying rack and began to rewash them. After a while he walked up behind her, his presence was overwhelming; physically, mentally and emotionally. He lightly placed his fingertips on her shoulder, an attempt to comfort his guilt and her distress. A comfort that made the tears grasp at her throat again, as if perused by the electricity in his touch.  "They have it on record, I don't need to go in." 

She nodded. Trying to smell the coffee, not his aftershave that hung in the air.

"Why are you rewashing dried dishes?" Cocking his head into her eye line, hands grasping the edging of the bench, as he leaned his weight onto it.

"They were left out overnight, its better they be rewashed." She cowered at the blatant stupidity of the excuse.

"Oh?"  

He picked up a teatowel and began to dry. 

"Bobby, there is no need."

"Oh, don't tell me. The tea towel was left out overnight?" He said with a smirk. Her face said it all, a smile dissolved by a poignant frown. 

She turned back to the dishes, knocking a delicate glass to the tiled floor in her haste. It shattered into a million pieces, carpeting the silver concrete with an intricate pattern.

"Figures." She mumbled, crouching down to the floor, flicking little shards of glass into her palm. 

"Alex, You haven't got shoes on. Here…" he said, crouching down and whisking her up into his arms, and onto her bench.  Then bending down himself, collecting the little crystal fragments from the floor.  "Dust pan??"

"Third cupboard on the right." 

He dumped the remnants of the glass into the bin. And then poured the coffee. _'White with one.'_ Alex thought, she had never told him that. He must have picked it up one day. These little perceptions were so frequent; she had become almost blasé about it. Still thinking about it struck her. He could tell if her if she was tired by the way she held her pen and the way she crossed her arms when interrogating male suspects was apparently her mental resistance. Bobby found complications in simplicity. '_Advanced Simplicity'_' he called it. His eyes were absent to black and white, they could only comprehend grey. '_How can things be black and white, Eames. A million variations bind together to create this one outcome. And only one change could send this down a completely different path. That's why everything is grey, because independence is a myth._ ' And this why his presence overwhelmed her. For all of Alex's successes at school, at college and in the force; it all paled into insignificance against his mind. And she would never fully understand him for it. _'Any other myths?'_ She could still see his vivid smile at her interest. '_Democracy.'_ He pontificated. _'How come?' 'Democracy is only for the enlightened. And in a society that so often suppresses vital facts, it loses its meaning.'_ He could shred something so defined into ciaos, and still have you comprehending every word. And he stood before her, hand rubbing the back of his neck with urgency, contemplating his next move.

"Alex?"

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Goren or Eames, and will not in the foreseeable future. 

Thanks: Major thanks to those who reviewed chapter 3! Wonderfully kind! THANKS again to Brandy, I would be lost without your help! ;)  - Chloe

Please Read & Review!!!

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She eased from the bench at his query. 

"Alex, this wouldn't work."

"This?"

He looked at her, his auburn eyes intense with frustration. He searched for the words, but they left him. His sentences where no longer concise, more strained words connected only by the spaces that separated them. 

"You and I…last night. That couldn't go on. Alex, my life, my life at the moment is. It's messy, it's a web of confusion and its only going to get more complicated…" He realised the selfishness of his statement and he hated himself for it. "I care for you, I don't want to put you through it." He searched for her gaze as she hid her eyes from him. His head cocked back and forth, and his arm nestled on her shoulder. "You mean." He sighed, deepening his eyes into hers and searching for the words. Mandatory pauses stagnated the mood. "You mean too much too me. We can't risk the friendship, our partnership." His heart was pulling at his throat.

She looked at him, eyes intensifying under his gaze of feeling. "Guess what?" She paused. "You just did." And she slipped past him and down the hall.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm out of milk." She retorted, her voice a calculated mix of frustration, anger, disappointment and sadness.

"It's raining."

"Indeed, it is."

"Alex, don't be stupid." He said in desperation, his eyes shut in finality as the door did the same. It was 11:00 am, he had just slept with his partner, his car was stolen, he was alone in her apartment and had just  driven her away. He collapsed into a chair, resting his head in his hands, contemplating what he had done. He wasn't drunk, he definitely wasn't tired. Then why did all this happen? There seemed no justifiable reasoning. Why did he smile and agree, he knew the consequences. They stood clear in front of him. Crystal clear. He could have stopped it, but he didn't. Had it reached such a point that everything of the past year had compounded into one night. He knew he loved her, he had know it for a while. But what he felt for Alex was futile. Bobby had regarded it as an intangible ideal. It was acceptable for him to feel for her with the intensity of a love, but circumstance disabled it as a fathomable possibility. But maybe if you run from something ceaselessly you hinder your chance to avoid it. He looked out the window, the rain no longer pelted from the gods. All that remained were the few immortal droplets framing the glass, until they disappeared into the atmosphere. Surviving one fate only to be collected by the next. Ironic. He wanted to run after her, but how could he? He lowered himself onto the couch, the smooth leather comforting his throbbing head as he shut his eyes and drifted into sleep.

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Alex paced furiously through the park, her brown boots demolishing the tranquility of any puddles in their path. She didn't want to go home, but what option did she have. An anvil of clouds gathered overhead, sounding ominous warnings of their presence. The tenderness of last night was over whelmed by the hostilities of the morning. Still the images still remained vivid in her mind. His fingers brushing back her hair as she pretended to sleep. Protecting her from an invisible enemy as her held her in his arms, caressing his lips across her forehead. His ability to entrench himself in the emotions astounded her, but he could also camouflage his heart. She sometimes forgot Bobby had just lost his father. He had hidden every ounce of despair and buried it deep past any perceivable level. But it had compounded, a black hole that overflowed with emotions it could no longer hold. Feelings for his mother, for victims, fear for himself and his confusions of her. And his fathers passing, though he resented him for the tribulations of his childhood and the abandonment of his mother, Bobby still felt love for him. _'I don't get it Alex. Why is all forgiven in death?' 'Maybe it's an admission that nobody is perfect, that we all claim the same fate, that were all equals. That's probably the most substantial proof that life is unfair, that nobody wins.'  _ She frowned at this thought. Maybe it was a fear of being happy, of winning, that scared him the most. The fear that if it were ever achieved, it could, it would never be sustained. 

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Alex opens the door, a stranger in her own home it seems. Her keys hitting the bench wake Bobby up from his daze, but he says nothing. 

"Bobby, are you here?" she inquires. Pulling of her boots and tying her hair back in a messy pony.

He has to say something. "Uh, yes. I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you come back." He sits up, indicating his presence, his position, and his expression. It's without distinction, a mix of solace and suppressed mental tribulations. "I better be going anyway." He looked out the window, straining his mind through a continual stream of thoughts. 

She walked over to him and sat down, her warmth instantaneously gracing the air. He looked at her for a second then flicked his head back to the window. Eventually the silence was too intense. The feelings painted the mood, and it was almost too concise for opportunity. "The rain has stopped." His voice was coarse. 

She nodded. 

He gestured at the sinister skyward scape. "But the clouds, the bigger ones, anvil shaped, their heavy. Probably be thunder storming again soon. People usual feel happier after a thunderstorm, the neutralization of the air by the static electricity is the theory."

Alex looked at him, her auburn eyes showing signs of emotional fatigue. 

"Alex, I'm sorry. I'm sorry all this happened and I'm sorry I didn't stop it." He rubbed a large hand through his hair. "It's like time and space are conspiring to force me to face things I never imagined possible."

"What was so impossible about last night?" She said, looking at the floor, wanting to hide from him. She didn't want to question him. Her head was compelling her mouth to jam closed, but it wouldn't. 

His head raised, his gaze traveling throughout the room, avoiding her. He knew he couldn't answer that question, he had gone into damage control.  "You don't want to love me Alex." 

And there it went again. Either disguising his emotions or denying them. Covering them with a noble paragon of righteousness. Camouflaging his feelings or ignoring them so no one has to suffer or bear his load. He feels a duty to protect her from what he has faced in the past and what he deals with in the present. So he continues to bury the possibilities and tells himself he's doing the right thing. The truth is that if anyone has scratched the surface of his emotional abyss its her, and the fact she still cares for him as an equal disarms him. The fact she knows his history, his indiscretions and still remains his closest friend monopolizes his fear of losing her. And he realises he isn't the only one whose childhood defied 'happy days', that Alex survived a less than nuclear existence with the wit and determination that defined her, but its not the same.

She looked at him, her eyes chasms of emotion.  "What if I already do?"

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I've written it 4 times already, time to stop. I don't own em.  
  
Authors Note: Once this is over its back to cop based fiction, this romantic angst stuff is giving me headaches. :( But anyway, back to the story, thanks to those who reviewed chapter 4, very kind! You keep me writing! I guess I should thank Ben Harper's Steal My Kisses for the inspiration of this chapter, great song, great artist! Heaps & heaps of thanks to Brandy! That's it I think, oh, feel free to query the rating, I can up it!  
  
plz R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
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Why did she do it? Why couldn't she have compelled her mouth shut? She had never felt so vulnerable; her control was an attribute that seemed vague and unfamiliar, only returning to her in instants of strength. He had this amazing ability to uncover her fears and desires with seemingly little effort, and in turn she felt her control slipping. She had fallen for him, over and over in the last few days, and nothing had changed while everything had. He was still himself; he graced no vibrant act of love but something real, tangible yet impossible. He was still unsure yet stable, defined by his feelings yet denying every one of them. She wondered if anyone else saw him like she did. Maybe he was a painting of a grace and beauty only untangled in her eyes, something that she could not fathom but still perceived.  
  
His hand graced his forehead, he was lost for words, or was unable to articulate them. The silence was only slightly lifted by the slight murmurs or his breath. And finally a word was spoken. "Alex.This isn't fair."  
  
Yet again her heart fell. "Fair?" Her strength again ignited, surging through her body, she couldn't suppress her pride.  
  
"You know what I mean." He gazed up at her for the first time in minutes.  
  
She paused. "No, I don't know what you mean. You're creating a test that I am never going to pass. Maybe instead of this game of mental cat and mouse, you can try telling me what you really think."  
  
He sighed in frustration, entwining his hands in his dusky hair. "It's not that simple."  
  
She nodded in acknowledgment as she got back up onto her feet. Bobby grabbed her hand, engulfing it in his own securely, fearing she was about to leave again. "Don't go." His fingers weaved through her own, an electricity amplifying the mood. Her frustration was evident as she rolled her eyes at his touch. She would slip back into the trap again. Varying states of sentiment snaring her unawares into an entrapment, his entrapment. His physical and mental intensity that she intuitively fell for, she couldn't discount it.  
  
"Why is nothing ever simple for you? Why does everything raise questions?"  
  
Looked up at her, but didn't answer.  
  
"You stop questioning for one night and you fall into comfort. And you probably think you slipped up?"  
  
Her hand slipped from his, the gentle electricity evaporating into the air.  
  
"Thought so." She concluded, gently turning to walk away.  
  
"No, no, no. Alex, I don't disregard it. It." His lips rounded the words with little effect. "It meant so much, it's just its." He grasp her hand with desperation, as she evaded his words, pulling her back onto the couch, her legs tucked under her. "It's loss."  
  
"You're not going to lose me." She responded.  
  
His hand brushed her cheek gently, comforting her anger. "No, you see Alex. I might."  
  
She looked into his eyes. She could see that he truly believed he could never keep her. She leaned in gently, his eyes watching her intently as she gently stole a kiss from his lips. She felt him gently resist the warmth, stirring away after a second of touch. His eyes were swallowed in hers as he felt her hand travel across his shoulder, and curl around his neck. He quivered at her touch, taking a deep breath, as he gained the defiance to lean into Alex, his lips tickling hers invitingly. His arms traveled from his side and across her slight back and through her hair as the tickles deepened in intensity. Her lips met his neck, short kisses of warmth and unrelenting delight.  
  
"Alex, we should stop." He said breathlessly, drawing on every ounce strength.  
  
One hand curled in his dark hair, the other lost on his chest, her lips lay close to his ear as they gently brushed the cold skin. "Why?" She whispered.  
  
"Because I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to perpetuate the damage."  
  
She rested his head on his shoulder, biting her lips as the scent that was his comforted her mind. "You don't need to worry about me."  
  
He smoothed her hair behind her ear, and gently kissed her cheek. "I know."  
  
"I'm a big girl you know?" She whispered gently in his ear, before kissing the skin just below it.  
  
"I know." He replied, her lips deepening into his, her warmth and veracity engulfing his mind. He felt her hands progress down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, kissing his chest lightly as she progressed. She gently eased it from his back and leaned back into his lips, her face pure contentment. He gently pulled at her woolen jumper, easing it over her head. Gently caressing her neck and shoulders with his lips. Her hands encircling his mussed ebony hair as she pulled his head back to hers, kissing him deeply, as he pulled her into his arms.  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Authors note: thanks guys for the great reviews, you really are a kind bunch! 

Disclaimer: I am not associated with Criminal intent or Dick Wolf in any way, I am financially challenged so please don't sue.

Please R&R!!! seriously, a good review is the best medicine!

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"Alex?" he whispered, as he pulled on his shirt.

Her mouth curved slightly at his request, like on the job. Nothing had changed, everything had. Every little gesture another pungent contradiction. His hands moved so fast down his shirt, tickling the buttons into security in seconds. His head tipped to the side, as he looked at her, head nestled between the back and arm of the couch. Her feet propped over his thighs, and a hand hung loosely over the couch. Every now and then she would shuffle in unease, she didn't speak for fear it would hurt her lips and heart. 

He would get this right, this time. You don't learn from your mistakes, you learn by correcting them. 

"Coffee?" he suggested abruptly, the words seemed misplaced in his breath, but she nodded; he had risen to his feet before she had the chance to refuse. 

She ran her fingers through her hair. "Bobby, I think I might just take a shower." He threw his gaze towards her, his lips slightly parted as he nodded. Motioning towards the hall with a substantial hands, he looked at her apologetically. "Do you want me to leave." His voice did not hint disdain at all, but instead a person troubled by right and wrong. His lips curved around the words, but not with the accuracy she knew. He was conflicted, in a way he would always be. But he had discovered security in his solitary being and he had adulthood forced upon him before any child should.  

"No Bobby, not yet." She replied turning her head back to him as her hand pushed at her bathroom door and slipped through. 

He eyed the white door, the shadows, the delicate china handle, and what lay beyond it. He wondered what she was thinking, and what she was escaping. And if his presence had become overrated and unsolicited. She didn't need him, she was the strongest woman he knew. He nursed his coffee a little longer and leaned against bench. Awkward, always so awkward. He couldn't see a future, maybe it was habit of isolation that held him back. He was happy as he was, but then there was that word "potential." It seemed to circle him constantly. He had "potential" or so everyone beamed when he was five. A revolutionary mind; complex, detailed and emancipated. Not from the fathers side, that's for sure, he had no claim to it. Nor did he have entitlement to the disappointment on his face when he discovered that his son would join the army. His father wasn't disappointed for Bobby, the dismay he bore in the crinkles on his nose for  what Bobby might have been, if his potential was a mere ideal. And his mother certainly didn't mind, her mind itself was dissolving, his was irrelevant. But the potential was always there, supposedly balancing every pain he felt, because he had the ability to overcome all of this. But he didn't want too. He had the ability to love Alex, the potential was always there, but maybe it would only be a love for what might be. His eyes watched the floor, but without definition, as his mind travelled a million miles without even moving. It always returned to her, and that was the impasse. He picked up his phone in urgency, stabbing the buttons. 

As Alex slithered from the bathroom she noticed him, poignant eyes engrossed in the voice on the other end of the phone. Hunched uncomfortably over himself on the couch, his tongue tickling his teeth in contemplation. 

_"Hi Mum…Mum, it's Bobby."_

_"Yes."_  She could see the sadness in his eyes. And she began to realise it was a look she had encountered million times before, but she never weighted.

_"I'm at a friends. Yes. Yes." _

_"No you haven't met her."_

He grinned slightly. _"Yes, I'm sure. I've told you about her, Alex?" _Her natural reaction sprung as her name was said, or maybe it was only when the words tumbled from his mouth that she reacted. 

Alex leaned her weight against the frame of the door, her head tilted her mind balanced._ "Its alright."_

_"Yeah?"_ He smiled, and it was heartfelt. Well, at least one woman could do that for him. _" I will see you soon, okay?"_

_"Monday."_

_"Two days."_

_"I love you, okay."_

_"Yes, goodbye, I'll tell him."_

She smiled from the doorway. "Hey, tell who?" 

He seemed a little surprised presence as he popped the phone back into his pocket. "Dad." He said with a certain detachment. "She forgets sometimes." And its like that doesn't matter, and it's the rhetorical statement of his life.

She sat down next to him, close. "You alright?"

"Yeah…" he brushed something invisible from his pant leg. "You worry about me too much." He said from behind his eyes.

She picked up his hand, just squeezing the fingertips. He watches them fold around his own, and grasped his chance to avoid the conversation just as she clutched his hand. "Your fingers, they're so petite." 

She smiled slightly, as he turned her palm over and studied it, running a finger across the skin parallel to her fingers, and then notices. "You broke your finger, your wedding ring finger?" 

"Yeah, it got slammed in a perp's car door during vice. I think mum considers it an omen." 

 "As opposed to a fracture." 

"I think it actually totalled to three." She replied with a dry grin and eyes that have stung for too long. And he smiled and it is heartfelt, he pulls her close and kisses her forehead. He tells her he has hated the word potential all his life, until now, because now he understands it. And love is no longer a mere faded paradigm; it's a prophecy that was never predicted, an inherently impossible ideal that was suddenly realised and the only thing they have ever felt for each other though its aliases are abundant. And as he gently pulled her into a kiss, he stops, and brushing an absconding hair back into place he whispered he loves her. 

She grinned, "You pick the moments, don't you?"

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the end – unless I have numerous objections to the quality of the ending.  


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